Mine
by SkullszEyes
Summary: Ruvik's colleague, Marcelo Jimenez asked if his patient Leslie Withers could stay at the Victoriano Estate for a few weeks. Ruvik reluctantly accepted. During Leslie's stay, they both find a sort of kinship with one another. Ruvik feels an aggressive control over Leslie. But Leslie's time is almost up.
1. Chapter 1

**Mine.**

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Ruben rifled through his research files when he heard a knock on the front door. He sighed at the familiar muffled voices, he dropped what was in his hands and left his work station behind the portrait in the music room. Closing the door and locking it with a combination, he headed off to see who what the hell that inferior man wanted. He opened the door and made sure not to make a sound just to see what was awaiting him. Only to find Marcelo Jimenez, along with his brother, Valerio, he noticed someone else with them.

Wondering if Marcelo brought him another patient from Beacon to experiment on, but the way they handled the others were different to the way the young man was cared for.

Albino, standing at least five foot six or maybe eight. He was hunched over, his eyes kept moving to place to place. Trying to figure out where he was in this unfamiliar environment. Ruben was quite curious of why they brought him here. He slipped past the door and closed it hard, from the loud echo, it scared his uninvited guests.

"What are you doing here, Marcelo?" Ruben demanded.

Marcelo gave a nod to his brother and walked over to him, "Ruvik. I'm here to ask a favor."

Ruben raised his brow at the nickname and what the doctor came to bare. He was a bit skeptical, but curious. "What is this favor?" he inquired, glancing to Valerio trying to console the boy who was having some sort of fit. Ruben figured the favor was about him, if it wasn't, why bring him unless he's used as another experiment.

"This is Leslie Withers," Marcelo introduced, his brother gripped Leslie's arm and dragged him over to them.

".. No.. No.. l-let go.." Leslie said, trying to wrench his arm from Valerio's grip.

"I was hoping he could stay here for awhile, not as an experiment," he said quickly. Ruben looked at Marcelo as if the man were crazy, they both knew he was. "I consulted the staff at Beacon Hospital that sometimes the mentally ill, if placed in different environments, will learn to heal. He already lived at the Hospice before he became my own personal patient, but lately he's been.. erratic. So I figured maybe he can stay here, of course I'll be watching over him and I'll keep him away from any vital research. Just for three weeks, maybe less."

Ruben didn't know if he wanted to take the doctor serious. Why let someone like this boy anywhere inside his home? There were too many traps, a few rooms were off limits, and Ruben himself didn't go near a few of them. The boy continued struggling from Valerio's grip, his livid face and heavy bags were evident enough that he didn't get much treatment from Beacon. Nor did he get any from Marcelo and Valerio, but what did that matter?

"No." Ruben turned and headed for the library that was on the top left wing of the estate. Hoping to locate more of his misplaced papers.

Marcelo sighed. "Wait here. I'll put some sense into him," he murmured to his brother, then hurried after Ruvik.

Ruben couldn't believe Marcelo would ask such an outrageous request. He flicked the light on and walked to his father's desk that sat in the center of the library. It was stacked with books and papers that Ruben didn't bother touching until now. He sifted through several papers when he heard the doctor walk in.

"Ruvik, please, it's only for a few weeks," Marcelo pleaded. The man did this a lot, usually because Ruben disliked his ideas or any other further analysis and needs constant persuading to include it. This is no different.

"Why bring him here? Take him somewhere else," Ruben said, pushing several books off the desk and rifled through more papers, but none had the brain chemistry notes he wrote a few weeks ago. He didn't throw them out, unless he accidentally burned them along with some books. He wasn't careless, he never left anything unchecked.

"I can't.. He'll only stay for three weeks, that's it. Then you'll never see him again," Marcelo pleaded. Ruben looked at the man to see the desperation on his face, it oozed through every word and it was pathetic to witness.

With an exasperated sigh, he said, "Fine. Three weeks and that's it. Keep him away from the top floor." _Don't need curious eyes on my research._

"Thank you, Ruvik," Marcelo said as he left the room.

Ruben didn't want to think of the mistake he just made. He was more concerned with the papers he lost. Without even a glance at the happy trio, or duo, since THE Leslie patient doesn't look thrilled in the least, he headed back inside the secret room behind the portrait and thought of deactivating the traps upstairs, but decided against it. Usually strangers tried to get into the estate since his _'disappearance'_ and the murder of his parents, once they realized there was someone living inside, the ones brave enough to enter never left. The screams lasted for days in their individual cells, some were left to starve, others were used to test more of his experiments and various research.

Maybe three weeks will pass and when it did. He wouldn't take another favor from Jimenez, unless he knew beforehand. Of course the man never did tell him what he was doing. This was no exception.

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 _authors notes:_

 _I kept this in my files for weeks and didn't know what to do with it. The ages are tweaked just so it doesn't make it more creepier than it already is._

 _Ruben is 26 - Leslie is 23_

 _Disclaimer: *_ _I do not own The Evil Within or any of its characters.*_

 _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._


	2. Chapter 2

**Mine.**

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Two days passed since Ruben accepted Marcelo's offer and he was already regretting it. He wasn't properly introduced to Leslie, from the screaming and banging on the main floor. He hoped he wouldn't. It's harder to focus, while before the silence was welcoming. He wasn't at the important research where he'd examined the brain chemistry of mentally ill patients. He can't exactly to that with one running around like some flailing child.

"Leslie! Come back here this instant!" Marcelo yelled, which didn't help Ruben's growing headache.

He left the confines of his hidden study behind the fire place in his parents bedroom and walked into the hall. He caught sight of the white clothes, skin and hair before Leslie disappeared around the corner like a fleeting ghost. Marcelo called his name from the library, thinking he hid somewhere around there. The doctor couldn't be that absurd, could he?

Ruben sighed, he followed Leslie down the dark hallway to the dressing room where his mother and sister used to lounge in with other female visitors. At least before his parents were murdered and his sister perished in the fire.

The thought made him pause in front of the door, he hated the memory. It ached too heavily inside his chest, his breathing stifled, but at the moment he needed to focus on Leslie and drag him back to Marcelo. Why was he running from the doctor anyway?

He quietly closed the door behind him and stayed still for several seconds. Listening to any noise, it wasn't long until he could hear Leslie hiding in the wardrobe. He was shaking, words tumbled from his lips in a repetitive manner.

Ruben walked around the screen and stood in front of the wardrobe. With a sigh, he grabbed the handles and pulled them open. Revealing the albino patient huddled against the wall, body curled inwards, arms hugging his knees tightly, he clenched his teeth at the sight of Ruben. He tried pushing farther into the wardrobe, but there was no more space for him to move.

Ruben's brows furrowed, he reached in, grasped Leslie's thin wrist and yanked him out of the wardrobe. Leslie yelped, stumbling out and falling against Ruben's chest, he took an unsteady step back, his wrists still tightly held in Ruben's hand.

Leslie tried pulling away, but Ruben's grasp was too tight. Without saying anything, Ruben turned away and dragged Leslie to the door that lead out to the staircase and the library across from them.

Marcelo was no longer calling out for his wayward patient. Shouldn't the doctor be looking for him, or was he doing something else entirely. Ruben pulled Leslie down the steps and headed for the dining room. He dropped Leslie's wrist and glanced around. There were strewn papers lying on the long dining table, books on one side, a few small hand held toys on the other, along with a fallen chair and a candle stick that once sat on the fireplace mantel.

"Stay," Ruben told Leslie, he left the dining room and went back up to the library where he expectantly found Marcelo leafing through a few books that sat on the desk. There wasn't anything there that was relevant towards Ruben's research, so he didn't understand why Marcelo was wasting his time getting distracted over things Ruben should have burned weeks ago.

"I found your patient on the right wing of the house, hiding inside a wardrobe. I thought you might want to know where he's been," Ruben said, standing idly by the doorway with his arms crossed.

Marcelo turned and gave Ruben a sharp nod. He dropped the papers he was reading and walked towards him, "Yes. My apologies. I hadn't realized he would make such a fuss."

"Yet you brought him here, thinking it might be therapeutic," Ruben said, watching as Marcelo barely made any type of expression that can deter him of his own reasoning. It was obvious that the doctor only let one of his patients come here for an excuse so Marcelo could easily watch him from his very home. He grimaced at the thought, he didn't need a babysitter. He was doing fine with the research.

"Where is he?" Marcelo asked, walking past Ruben.

"I left him in the dining room," Ruben said, watching the doctor leave, listening to the faint creaks of the staircase until they vanished, instead he could hear Marcelo berating Leslie and Leslie's muffled repetitive words sounding shrill with anxiety and panic.

Ruben had no interest in knowing what the doctor was going to do with Leslie. When Leslie first entered the estate, he didn't look cared for. His blue eyes were smudged from lack of sleep, rimmed with reed from excessive crying. There were faint bruises along his jaw, neck and hands.

He couldn't blame the people at Beacon when his own test subjects didn't have a proper room to sleep in. Ruben didn't even consider them people.

He headed back to his work room behind the fireplace and settled down at his desk. Picking up his pencil, he read over his notes about emotions provoking the human brain. Fear and aggression triggered a response by noise and sight, increasing stimulation, the neurons falter, cutting off certain parts and draining the victim. He'd have to shift memory perception and the vital reaction.

After awhile of tapping his pencil on the desk. He dropped it and stood, leaving the secret room, including his parents. He heard the clattering of books as he came to the staircase and descended. The noises grew, Leslie's whimpers and Marcelo's harsh words being expressed woke the house to an echoing tremor.

Ruben continued walking, ignoring the image of Leslie's frightened face when he found him in the wardrobe. He looked like a scared experiment that he was about to dissect. He shook his head and knew that soon he'll be busy with other things.

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 _authors notes:_ _Hey. The science stuff is improvised. I also don't like abuse, so any of it will be vague._

 _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._


	3. Chapter 3

**Mine.  
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Ruben washed his hands after leaving the cell of Subject 14. The blood and grime was always tricky to scrub from under his fingernails. It's been several hours since he left Jimenez and Leslie upstairs. When he reached the main floor and walked down the hall, he found it mysteriously quiet. It was the norm to him, but he knew there was a snooping doctor and a riled patient inside his home, the silence ran of suspicion.

He looked around the main floor, listening for any distinct noise, but only heard Leslie murmuring in the galley on the second floor. Ruben sighed and headed upstairs, finding Leslie rocking back and forth in front of Ruben's family portrait. He closed the door which made a loud echo, Leslie's stilled and looked over his shoulder, his brows creased in worry as he stood with his hands gripping a slip of paper.

"Where's Jimenez?" Ruben asked, he looked down at the paper Leslie was offering. He took it and unfolded it, when he read it, he frowned at Leslie who's head was slightly tilted to the side, frowning with a dismayed look in his eyes. "He.. left you.." Ruben began, glancing down at the paper and Jimenez handwriting, ".. with me..?" There was a lot of wrong with Jimenez that he could write off as arrogance and pity, but this was too much. First he asked if _his_ patient could stay for several weeks in Ruben's home, now he just leaves his patient, with him?

Ruben crumpled the paper and stormed out of the room and down the hall to the dining room. He looked around for any other significant note the doctor left but there was nothing. Jimenez's papers and books were no longer stacked on the table, the only things that were out of place were Leslie's blocks and other hand held toys scattered on the floor and table.

"Tomorrow.. e-evening.."

Ruben looked over his shoulder at Leslie who stood at the threshold of the dining room and the foyer. He was still teetering, his gaze elsewhere, fingers wringing impatiently.

"Is that what he said? He'll return tomorrow evening?"

Leslie nodded, he bit down on his lip and that's when Ruben noticed the split and dried blood. He recalled Jimenez yelling at Leslie and Leslie's whimpers. He sighed and walked over to Leslie, taking his wrist and pulling him into the kitchen where he made Leslie sit down on a stool. Leslie said nothing as his hands curled inwards and gripped his knees tightly. His gaze seemed far off, as if he didn't know what was truly going on around him.

Ruben turned the facet on and took out a clean cloth. Soaking the cloth and wringing it out. He came in front of Leslie, tilting Leslie's chin up and wiped the dried blood, there were fresh bruises along his jaw and forehead. His dark bags looked excessively heavy, and Ruben wondered how many days Leslie went without sleeping. Ruben brushed his fingers along Leslie's pale skin and over the fresh purplish bruises.

Leslie flinched, he leaned back and his mouth parted but nothing came out. Ruben didn't know what he did, but in some weird way he was mesmerized of Leslie's features. Blotched with bruises and the innocence in his blue eyes seemed to lure him in.

He swallowed thickly, letting the thoughts dissipate before rubbing away more of the blood on Leslie's pale lips. They were slightly moist from Leslie biting on them and almost looked inviting. He leaned in, but he stopped before he could do anything. He walked to the sink and dropped the cloth before turning on the facet.

Leslie had stopped teetering and was now looking at him. He had this confused expression on his face, as if he knew what Ruben was about to do but didn't completely understand it himself.

 _Damn, Jimenez. What was so important that you had to leave me with your patient?_ He shook his head, hoping the doctor would give him a straight answer once he returns. For now, he'll have to do something with Leslie, he didn't want him in the way while he organized the books and papers in the library. Since there was nothing else remotely to do, he grabbed Leslie's arm and pulled him through the dining room to the main foyer and pushed him towards the stairs.

Leslie said nothing as he hurried up the stairs, his hand gripping the railing. They walked inside the library, it was still a mess, he didn't exactly enjoy looking at what his father was once interested in when he was alive. The books and research were mostly on religion and old cults that were outdated. Maps of villages and townhouses, several grounds that were used for burning rituals.

Leslie sniffed, he looked around the library as if this was his first time being inside the room. Ruben, however, wasn't about to let Leslie wander in the library while he did his work. He needed silence, so he grabbed Leslie's arm and dragged him down the hall, opening the first door to his left and pushed Leslie inside.

It was an ordinary room with blue wallpaper, a single double bed, a wardrobe and a writing desk. It was his bedroom, he rarely slept in it since they died. Leslie examined the room, finding the place accommodating as he glances at Ruben.

"You're sleeping in here," Ruben states, leading Leslie to the bed, he flipped the blankets and indicated with the swoop of his hand for Leslie to get in, Leslie bit his lip and winced, remembering the cut.

Ruben sighed, "Hurry up. I have to organize some things and I don't have all day for you to decide."

Leslie crawled on the bed and Ruben covered him up as if he were a child. He was pretty certain Leslie was in his early twenties. He'd have to get more information about him from Jimenez tomorrow, if the doctor came back.

"I'll be down the hall in the library. Try to sleep," Ruben said, he turned away and walked to the door, when he was about to slip through, he glanced back at Leslie and found him staring in return. A sort of emotionless gaze, Ruben tore his eyes away and left the room.

Once he closed the door, the hallway felt empty. The house creaked and groaned, but everything else was simple and quiet. He entered the library and began shuffling through the stacks of papers and books. Ignoring his father's writing as he piled the ones he was going to throw out on one side and the ones he was keeping on the other.

Since Laura died, he felt nothing. And now this odd feeling coming over him, it was sick and twisted and he wanted to do something about it, but what exactly? The urge to sink his fingers into Leslie's skin and listen to the noises and screams he would make. It was inviting, but he couldn't. He knew he couldn't do it. Leslie wasn't his to take, but why else would Jimenez bring him? Leslie _is_ the distraction.

For now, he'll have to get the answers from Jimenez, even how insolent the doctor may be.

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 _ **a/n:**_

 _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._


	4. Chapter 4

**Mine.**

* * *

Four hours ago, Ruben left Leslie in his bedroom to sleep. Four hours of tedious work, rifling and burning papers. He sighed when he finished organizing, all there was were piled books that would have a place in the storage room downstairs.

The house creaked and the wind pushed the branches against the window, making a low screech. Ruben thought he'd have silence for the rest of the night until a scream interrupted that, it echoed off the walls coming from down the hall.

Ruben set his books and papers down and strolled to his bedroom. Wondering why Marcelo didn't mention that Leslie suffered from night terrors. He entered the room and noticed the discarded blankets and pillows and Leslie hiding in the corner near the writing desk. His legs were pulled to his chest and his face was tear streaked. His entire body shook as Ruben knelt down in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Ruben asked.

Leslie clenched his teeth and hid his face in his hands. "M-Monsters…" He murmured.

Ruben didn't know what to do. He never comforted someone before, at least not about nightmares. In that split second, he wracked his mind of his childhood, before the fire and his parents deaths. He used to have nightmares too, and when he had them, Laura would crawl in his bed and hold him until he fell back to sleep. He couldn't exactly do that, he and Leslie didn't even know each other.

Leslie was still shaking and his soft cries wouldn't let up. Ruben noted the greasy white strands and the unkempt clothes he wore. Marcelo left a bag in the dining room, he figured Leslie had some spare clothes to wear. With a sigh, he reached for Leslie's wrists and unlike the time in the dressing room, he handled Leslie more cautiously.

"I'll give you a bath."

The look on Leslie's face was complete distrust and he knew where it came from. Beacon Mental Hospital wasn't exactly a haven, the doctors and nurses were rude to the patients. Leslie's fear, the bruises marring his skin were evident of the harsh treatment.

He hesitated, thinking of the brutality he conducts in the basement. Where the screams of his _'patients_ ' are silenced. No one knows they're there, no one ever needs too.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Ruben said, standing up and waiting for Leslie, but he stared at him with questions ravaging his mind. Ruben scowled and began walking out of the room, leaving Leslie to his own devices, if he wanted, he could follow.

It didn't take long as he entered the hall and Leslie was several feet behind him. His hand holding the wall, while his other gripped the hem of his shirt. Ruben glanced back once and caught the distrust and confusion. He'd have to win his trust in a matter of minutes so he could give Leslie a bath. Or maybe he didn't have too. Marcelo should be back tomorrow, but the bruises and scolding Leslie was inflicted with still crossed his mind.

For the first time in awhile. Ruben had no idea what to do. Either wait for Leslie to make up his mind, or let him wander around until tomorrow evening. Until then, Ruben went back to rifling through papers and books.

Leslie glanced about, he wrung his fingers nervously. He stayed in the shadows of the bookshelves, gliding his fingers over dusty spines.

They stayed like this for half an hour. Leslie moved at a leisure pace, sometimes a gasp escaped him whenever he toppled a stack of books or dropped one from the shelf. He'd grunt and murmur to himself, he even attempted climbing the ladder, but didn't go up to the second level.

Ruben kept his thoughts to himself. Ignoring the urge to tell him to quiet down or leave the room entirely. Leslie was just being curious, he had to right to shut him out like that, even though he was annoyed by it. He stared at some documents, read a few nonsense pages about a cult and the religious churches going back several decades.

He stopped when he felt a pull on his coat. He looked to his left and found Leslie standing beside him, he didn't even hear him, not a creak from the wooden floorboards. Leslie stared at the papers and books with little interest.

"Bath?" Leslie muttered.

Ruben furrowed his brows and dropping the paper he was holding in his hand on the table. "Finally made up your mind."

Leslie nodded slowly. "Clothes?"

"I'll get them. You know where the bathroom is, right?" He asked.

Leslie bit his lip and shook his head.

Ruben sighed and lead him down the hall, past his and Laura's bedrooms, until they stopped a room away from his parents. He walked into room and flicked the light on. A claw foot tub sat at the end of the bathroom beside the wall, a white curtain hung above. A toilet and a round sink sat to the left with a white untouched towel hanging from a hook.

"Wait here," Ruben said, closing the door behind him before Leslie could protest. He headed back down the hall, past the library and down the staircase. It was eerie quiet in the estate and couldn't help but feel it was unnerving, which was more stranger. He walked into the dining room and grabbed the bag sitting beside the table and headed upstairs again.

Leslie is a twenty-three year old. He figured maybe he could bathe by himself, but when Ruben walked into the bathroom again. He found Leslie standing in front of the bathtub with his shirt off. Showing his emaciated white skin marked with faint bruises and scars. The bones protruding the skin looked tempting to glide over and Ruben had to fight the feeling of doing so as he closed the door and walked over to him.

He placed the bag on the toilet seat and unzipped it. Finding another pair of the Beacon Mental Hospital clothes inside. Of course Leslie wouldn't have anything else, why would he? He practically lived at Beacon for his mental instability he didn't bother asking Jimenez about. Once he returns, he'll ask for a full report on Leslie's condition, but for now, he'll just have to guess from the symptoms he's not hiding.

"Have you ever bathed yourself?" Ruben wondered, keeping his eyes on the clothes instead of Leslie's bruises and the scars that marked his skin. He wondered if he pressed hard on one bruise, what kind of reaction would Leslie have? Would it be instantaneous, or would he try to suppress the pain? Such tempting questions that made Ruben's mouth parch with thirst.

"Showers.." Leslie murmured, "Took showers at.. Beacon.."

Ruben nodded slowly. "Okay. Well, you're going to take a bath, here.. Now." He met Leslie's blue eyes, they shown confusion, not fear, not like earlier when he was scared. It was an improvement, something Ruben was glad about.

"Get undressed."

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 **a/n:**

 _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._


	5. Chapter 5

**Mine.**

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Ruben made sure the water wasn't too cold for Leslie. He turned, arms crossed and waited for Leslie to get in. The second he heard the splashes, he spun around. Leslie had pulled his legs to his chest, lowering his chin to his knees. The tips of his white hair dipped into the water and he looked incredibly vulnerable as Ruben knelt down beside the tub and rolled his sleeves up. He grabbed the soap that sat on the sink and soaked it in the water.

Leslie watched. Ruben knew from the bruises that he was badly hurt at Beacon, he didn't trust anyone and usually they don't bathe their patients, they would push them into a cold shower and that would be it. He didn't wait for Leslie to trust him, he brought the soap to Leslie's shoulders and slathered it along his skin. Ignoring the shudder, he grabbed Leslie's hand and placed the bar in his palm and reached for the shampoo.

Leslie stared at the soap and ran it along his arm, down to his wrist. Ruben didn't mind the distraction as he squeezed some of the shampoo into his hand and reached for the top of Leslie's head. He cupped some water and mixed the shampoo and made sure every inch of Leslie's head was covered in it.

Ruben washed the soup from his hands and stood up. He grabbed a spare towel and dried his hands. "Clean the rest of your body, make sure nothing gets in your eyes. I'll be back in ten minutes." He turned and left the bathroom and walked down the hall. In all his time with his research, he never thought he'd have to do this. Washing bodies was different when they were usually dead.

Not someone like Leslie. Warm, fragile, easily broken if prodded too hard, the undeniable look of distrust never faltered. Curious of how long that would last. He shook the thought from his mind and entered the library where he was greeted by the stacks of papers and books he'll have to sort through.

The house shuddered, branches scraped against the windows, making skeletal shadows on the floor. The wind whistled an eerie tune, but nothing else except silence surrounded him.

He picked up a stack of papers on the desk and dropped them on the floor without a single glance. He continued this process with several books, only staring at them with mild interest before discarding them. Ruben pulled open the drawers and slumped down on the chair, skimming over past notes his father wrote, he always found his father held a firm yet unyielding relent when it came to the church. The old newspapers identified his father's lack of skepticism.

He clicked his tongue and dropped them in the growing pile on the floor, before he could get to the next drawer, he heard a scream.

Ruben frowned and stood up, the screaming continued from down the hall. With one last furtive glance at his father's lifeswork. He headed down the hall and pushed open the bathroom door. The bath was no longer filled with water and Leslie stayed curled with drops of water slithering down from the tips of his hair and along his smooth skin, with the obvious redness from his eczema scars. He was visibly shaking with his eyes tightly closed.

The floor and the towel Ruben left were soaking wet. He sighed and quickly grabbed three from the closet, dropping two on the floor at the base of the tub and tapped the edge.

Leslie shuddered and looked up, the dark bags underneath his eyes illuminated off his pale wet skin.

"What's wrong?" Ruben asked, setting the towel on the edge of the tub and reached for Leslie's chin. He didn't flinch away from his touch as Ruben lifted his face.

Leslie's eyes were bloodshot and looked irritable as he squinted up at Ruben, he turned his head, breaking Ruben's hold.

"I told you to make sure not to get soap in your eyes."

Leslie grinded his teeth together before saying, "In your eyes.. in your eyes.. in your eyes.. eyes? eyes?.." He rubbed them and let out a broken sob.

Ruben scowled and turned the faucet on, ignoring Leslie's cry as the cold water splashed on his naked skin. He picked up the towel and soaked the end, turning off the faucet.

"Come here," Ruben said, feeling the soaked towels underneath his feet squelch as he moved to his left, but Leslie stayed pushed against the tub with his knees to his chest. "Leslie.."

"Hurts.. it hurts.." Leslie closed his eyes and reached his hands out.

Ruben watched him flail before grasping his wrist and tugging him forward. A yelp fell from Leslie lips as his free hand grasped the tub, keeping himself from falling into Ruben again.

"Look at me."

Leslie tilted his head up, keeping his eyes closed. He whimpered as Ruben pushed back his bangs sticking to his face and rubbing the wet cloth against his closed eyes.

Ruben flipped the towel around Leslie and pulled him out of the tub and planted him on the floor. Even though he let go of Leslie's wrist, Leslie shuffled closer to him, gripping the hem of his shirt.

Ruben lead him to the sink and placed him in front of it. "Wash the soap from your eyes." He turned the faucet on as Leslie scooped up water with shaky hands.

"Eyes.. eyes.." Leslie leaned against the sink and scooped water into his hands, rubbing his eyes enough that when he was finished, he turned back to Ruben who turned the facet off.

"Good?" Ruben asked, wrapping the rest of the towel around Leslie's waist.

Leslie nodded, taking a tentative step forward, breaking the personal space between them. Ruben noticed that Leslie's trust was growing. It was odd. He figured all that neglected time in Beacon, he'd be more suspicion of someone being kind to him. Ruben found this distasteful and walked over to the chair where he left Leslie's clothes, when he turned, he stifled a groan as Leslie barely clung to his side.

"You can change yourself, right?"

Leslie nodded, keeping his eyes downcast.

"Great. I'll be down the hall." Ruben placed the clothes into Leslie's hands and walked out of the bathroom. He shuddered once he closed the door, the cold air enveloped him when the bathroom's heat felt nicer. He couldn't help the scowl as he pushed himself away from the door and walked to the library.

The stacks of paper and books no longer appealed to him. He'd rather burn them until every little bit of his father's work was gone, and his was replaced.

He slumped down on the chair and stared at the pile. He caught himself waiting for Leslie, glancing down the hall to see the him. Fighting an urge to meet him half way. Scowling, he turned his head each time before finally he smelled something flowery in the air unlike stagnant water and dust.

He turned around in his chair and Leslie walked into the room, fingers wringing together as his eyes moved around the room. The clothes looked cleaner than the ones he wore before, his white hair still stuck his face and Ruben wondered if it was too cold in the room.

Ruben stood, "Finished."

Leslie looked at him for the briefest moment before turning his gaze to the floor. He nodded a few times, "Finished.. finished.. Cold.. It's cold.."

"There's a fire place in the dining room. You can sit in there."

Leslie nodded. "Alone?.. Alone?"

Ruben didn't know what to do besides look over his shoulder at the stacks of papers and books. He sniffled and sighed deeply.

"No. I'll join you. I have to burn some things anyway."

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 _authors notes: This will get OOC since Ruben and Leslie were never on friendly terms. :/_

 _I lost interest, if it wasn't obvious. I wasn't up to force inspiration, I did rewatch Markiplier's videos on YouTube, the original game and the DLC with Kidman. :) So, yeah.. I tried and this might be crap but yay for updating. I know you want me to write longer chapters, I'll try, but it won't be in every chapter._

 _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._


	6. Chapter 6

**Mine.**

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Ruben knelt to the side of the fireplace looking idly into the flames while he tossed in scrunched up pieces of paper. Leslie sat a foot to his right, throwing in his own pieces of rolled up paper. They've been at this for nearly fifteen minutes and from the look of contentment on Leslie's face, he isn't so cold anymore.

Ruben sat back and tore out another paper from his father's many journals and rolled them up. Placing them down beside him while Leslie reached for it and tossed it in.

"Tired yet?"

Leslie shook his head.

"Tell me when and I'll take you back to the room."

"Do.. you sleep?" Leslie murmured.

Ruben rubbed his eyes. "Not really."

The last time he slept was a few days ago. He forgotten to eat as well, his energy was used for his research and nothing else. His body did betray him at times, usually by forcing him to sleep at his desk or collapsing in the hall with little aid. Waking up numb and sick, his body ached all over until he could something to suppress the pain so it wouldn't drag him down. Eating backfired, but there were moments when he could swallow small morsels of food, drinking liquids helped the stomach aches.

Ruben noticed they were running out of papers and rose to his feet. "I'll be right back." He didn't wait for Leslie's response as he left the room and headed upstairs. The frigid air attacked him as he meandered in the library, gathering books into his arms.

He went back to the dining room where he found Leslie curled on the floor. He furrowed his brows as he placed the books on the table and knelt beside Leslie. His breathing was slow and even.

There was no way Ruben was going to carry Leslie upstairs to the bedroom. Nor did he think sleeping on the floor was wise when the fire was going to burn out in a few hours, he figured Leslie would wake up like he did before during a nightmare.

Sighing, he nudged Leslie's shoulder a few times, when his blue eyes blinked open, Ruben grabbed his arm and helped Leslie to his feet.

"Come on, I'll take you to the room."

"Alone?.." Leslie said in a sleepy voice as he clung to Ruben's arm.

Ruben gritted his teeth at the feel of his hands while taking him to the stairs. "Yes, alone."

Leslie groaned. "Not alone.. not alone.." He panted, his fingers digging into Ruben's arm.

"Ah.. Leslie. Let go." Ruben reached down and gripped Leslie's wrist, wrenching it off him before he could tear at any sensitive areas. Leslie shook his head as Ruben dragged him up the stairs and into the library.

"M-monsters.. they'll.. get me.. not alone.. not alone.." Leslie sobbed, dragging his feet to try and slow down Ruben, and when Ruben was fed up with it, he swiftly turned around and grasped Leslie's arms, pushing him hard against the wall.

Leslie shuddered while Ruben glared. "There are no monster. You're not alone."

"Alone.. alone.." His voice broke while tears streaked down his face. "Alone.."

Ruben let out a frustrated noise before grasping Leslie's arm and pulling him the rest of the way to the bedroom. Swinging the door open and shoving Leslie inside, Ruben shook his head once before walking in himself and closing the door behind him.

Leslie rubbed the tears from his eyes while Ruben flicked the light off and walked to the desk across from the bed and turned the lamp on.

Leslie sniffled and sat down on the bed, bringing his legs to his chest. "You're staying with.. me?.."

Ruben grunts, "Isn't it obvious. Go to sleep."

Leslie frowned, pulling the blankets out and crawling underneath. He watched Ruben until his eyes fluttered shut.

There were notes on the desk, marked three weeks ago. Nothing substantial, just small eager writing. Ruben wrinkled his nose and crumpled the paper into a ball. When he turned, he finds Leslie fast asleep again.

The few living patients from Beacon whom are trapped in the cells wore the same clothes as Leslie. Yet unlike their decrepit condition, Leslie slept in his bed with a look of contentment. He cursed Jimenez for making him babysit when he could be researching.

Not bothering to think of the consequences of leaving Leslie on his own, he slipped out of the room and headed down the hall, past the library and down the steps. The crackling of the flames continued as he headed for the basement. Once he closed the door, he knew if Leslie shouted for him, he wouldn't hear him.

He walked down the steps, the cold air brushed against him as he suppressed a shiver. The sounds of his test subjects grew, their moans and laughter echoed along the walls, some cried, yelling for help while others broken beyond repair made little noise.

Ruben walked into a room that looked like a kitchen. Dirty counters with papers and jars of organs, splattered dried blood and surgical instruments. Two large sinks, to the far side there was a bath with a body filled with grime. In the center of the room was a table with a mental patient from Beacon. A girl with short dark hair, hazel eyes and pale skin. She was strapped down, staring at the lights above her, she didn't acknowledge his presence as he walked past her to the counter where he examined his notes.

He opened her up and cut out certain things, watching her brainwaves react to the gruesome things he was doing to her while she stayed awake, anesthesia running through her veins. Now she's catatonic, but before she experienced hallucinations and spoke in jumbled words.

Ruben considered dumping her somewhere. A broken experiment wasn't a useful one. He sighed and walked over to her, placing his hand on her chin and turning her head toward him. Snapping his fingers in front of her eyes.

"Milla.." No reaction. Just as he thought, he'd have to get rid of her, or let her rot in one of the cells with the others.

He loosened the restraints and trailed a hand along her pale neck. She was calm with little notice to anything around her.

A scream jolted him out of it. He maneuvered around the table and swung the door open, the halls were empty but he could still hear the terrified screams. He knew it wasn't coming from any of his prisoners and when he found the culprit, he couldn't help squeezing his fists together and grinding his teeth.

Frustration at the sight of a white spectral looking horrified at one of the inmates waving his hands through the small barred window. Screaming for help. From the looks of it, Leslie couldn't even move an inch, his hands were clasped together, pulling his fingers in different ways before letting out a loud shriek.

Ruben growled and walked toward him. Leslie didn't even seem to notice him until he was a beside him, about to grab his arm.

Leslie jerked away from him. This small act somehow struck a harsh pain in Ruben's chest, but he pushed it away before it could take hold of him.

"Why are you down here?" he asked, not able to mask the annoyance that Leslie followed him and now that he stood mere feet from him with terror on his face. A tingling sensation began at his hands, as if he wanted to reach out and strangle Leslie and slam his head against the cold wall until his blood seeped to the floor.

He grit his teeth and moved toward Leslie who backed away. His finger dug into the top of his hands, leaving deep red imprints as he shook his head.

"I asked you a question." Ruben noticed the softness of his voice, the tingling feeling growing, his mouth felt parched as if Leslie were something delicious in front of him and all he'd have to do to feel sated was to dig his teeth into his pale skin.

He reached his hand up to cup Leslie's chin, this only made Leslie flinch, clenching his teeth as his blue eyes looked up at Ruben.

"Alone.." he said in a broken tone, his lips chapped and his body shivering from how cold it was down in the basement.

Ruben hands were already freezing, yet he ignored it since his research always came first before his own personal priorities.

"I know," Ruben said, the screams of the people continued to echo, and that seemed to spur the moment between himself and Leslie. Having found a desire that crept along his skin, staring into frightened blue eyes that stared evenly as if Leslie was slowly getting used to the sounds.

Ruben didn't think about it, not the consequences he'd have to deal with afterward. He never apologized for what he wanted and this was no different.

He leaned down, pressing Leslie against the wall and kissing him. It was hard and when he turned his head, he felt a sort of relief at the softness of Leslie's mouth. He breathed through his nose, gripping Leslie's face to keep him steady. He felt Leslie reaching for his shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of his coat.

Then it was over, to fast and not enough.

Leslie ran the second he got his opportunity, leaving Ruben to lean his forehead against the wall and close his eyes, wondering what the hell he was doing.

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 _authors notes:_

 _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._


	7. Chapter 7

**Mine.**

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Leslie's been holed up in Laura's room for the past several hours to Ruben's annoyance. He tried asking Leslie to get out, but all he received was silence. For the moment alone, Ruben threw out most of his father's journals and papers out of frustration. He hasn't felt this on edge since his parent's deaths. He trembled with the urge to gouge someone's eyes out.

He looked down the hall, clenching his hands and remembered how he felt when he kissed Leslie's chapped lips. His body trembling in that cold dark place amongst the broken. He released his hands and looked around for more books, but they were torn to shreds.

He'd have to find more.

As he headed downstairs, a rumble of thunder shook the house, some of the lights flickered but he continued until he stopped, gripping the railing when he heard a soft shrill come from upstairs. He glanced over his shoulder and continued descended the staircase.

There was no way Leslie was afraid of thunder. It was just noise.

Ruben went down into the basement where the thunder became distant and the familiar tortured screams blocked out Leslie's.

He walked down the halls, ignoring the groans and soft laughters that echoed against the walls. Some of the rooms had small windows that you could look inside and see the person strapped to a steel table, wrists bloody and a mask covering their faces, others laid in tubs and gurneys.

He went to the far end of the hall to a room, taking out his keys, he unlocked the door and walked in. It was more of a filing room, except the books and papers were stained of mildew and stagnated water, the ends curling of the damp air inside the room. He picked up a handful and left, heading back upstairs where Leslie's scream was quiet, even when a clapping of lightning echoed in the air.

This brought on a curiosity as Ruben headed upstairs, set the books and papers on the table and headed for Laura's room. The screams continued with each lapse of thunder shuddering the house.

With a deep sigh, he rapped his knuckles against the door. "Leslie… are you alright?"

"Help," Leslie yelped from beyond the door. Another rumble shook the house, eliciting whimpers from Leslie.

Ruben sighed, leaning his head against the door and closing his eyes. "Can you open the door?"

"Help," Leslie called.

Ruben squeezed his eyes closed and headed for his bedroom door and grabbed the knob that lead to Laura's. He scowled when the door didn't open and figured Leslie had locked it on the other side.

Knocking on the door, "Leslie. Open up."

Another thunder shook the house and he could hear rattling on the other side, something falling and everything went dark. Ruben glanced around and felt the chill along his skin as he walked over to his nightstand and clicked the lamp but the light didn't turn on.

"Great, the electricity went out."

He would have to start up the back up generator in the basement, but he wasn't sure if he should leave Leslie by himself.

"Leslie," Ruben called, knocking on the door again, but there was no response. He was about to leave to check the generator when he heard the door shake and a soft groan when another loud rumble shook the house, the door came free from the frame and even in the darkness. Leslie looked more like a ghost as he shoved the door opened and wrapped both arms around Ruben.

Ruben froze in place, not because Leslie's hold tightened when another thunder shook the house, he did flinch, but mostly because he didn't want to let go. Cursing himself, he reached down and grabbed Leslie's hands.

"No.. No.." Leslie cried, grasping Ruben's waist and burying his face into his chest.

Ruben sighed, walking backwards toward the bed and sat down, only for Leslie to crawl on top of him.

"Damn it, Leslie."

"Loud.. it's loud," Leslie murmured, gripping Ruben's shirt.

Ruben reached down and grabbed Leslie's side and pulled him off of him. "It's just thunder."

Leslie shook his head, his white hair falling into his eyes but Ruben saw the tears and the blotchy redness.

Ruben sighed, he hadn't thought since he forced a kiss on Leslie that a simple weather issue would change his mind dramatically. Not like this was what Ruben wanted in the first place. "Leslie. I have to turn on the generator."

"Don't.. Leave me."

Ruben reached down and took his hand. "It's in the basement." He felt Leslie stiffen and knew he remembered what he saw, what he heard and mostly remembered what Ruben had done.

"You can stay here," Ruben offered.

Leslie shook his head, whimpering as another deep grumble reverberated the house. He gasped out cries as he looked up at Ruben. "Don't leave me."

Ruben sucked in a sliver of breath and stood up, his hand still entwined with Leslie. It seemed to comfort them both as they left the room and walked down the hall, Leslie sticking to Ruben's side, shaking and whimpering as more thunder shook the house. Ruben blinked a few times to find his bearings, they managed to make it down the stairs and walk along the halls to the basement stairs where the screams of the faceless captives echoed continuously.

Leslie stayed stuck in the doorway. "You can stay here," Ruben said, the cold was seeping into the house and making him shudder with each step they took throughout the house, standing at the top of the stairs, Ruben was eager to turn the generator on.

Leslie closed his eyes, his hand tightened in Ruben's grasp. "No.. I don't want.. To be alone."

Ruben raised his brow. He hadn't ever heard someone sound so broken. He didn't know how this would end, nor if Leslie would lock himself away again, they descended into the basement, going deeper, past rooms with screaming subjects. Ruben was so cold, he was stiffening up and Leslie was pressed against him, his arm encircled around his own.

When they arrived to a room with an engraving on the door, GENERATOR. Ruben grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open with enough force that it was barely enough space unless he squeezed himself in.

He looked back at Leslie who was staring at the bold engraving, teetering back and forth as he rubbed his hands together.

"I'll be right back."

Leslie stopped, he looked at Ruben and rushed over to him. "No!"

Ruben tried shaking him off. "It'll only take a second."

Leslie cried, shaking his head back and forth.

Ruben gritted his teeth. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." He managed to slip inside, trying to ignore Leslie's cries as he walked throughout the room and found the generator where he managed to press a few buttons to turn it on. He always figured the automatic generators would be more useful, but since his parents deaths, he hadn't thought of upgrading anything.

The lights flickered to life and he walked back toward the door where he found Leslie sitting on the ground with his back against the wall, his knees to his chest and his hands covering his face. He was shaking uncontrollably.

Ruben sighed, he knelt down beside him and was hesitate of touching him. "I didn't leave you, Leslie."

Leslie raised his head slowly, his face wet from tears and before Ruben knew it, he flung himself against him, making Ruben slam his back against the door. It moved a centimeter, but Ruben was more curious and surprised why Leslie was hugging him.

"Don't leave me.. Don't leave me.. Don't leave me," Leslie murmured against the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around Ruben's neck.

Ruben closed his eyes. "I think you're overreacting."

They stayed this way longer than Ruben liked, but when they finally moved, Ruben took Leslie's hand and lead him back upstairs where the thunder seemed to calm Leslie down more than the screams in the basement.

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 **notes:** _Hey. If there's any grammatical errors, my bad, I've been trying to write this for the past 4 hrs, not including the other times I tried. :/ Writers block is just another mood where I don't give a shit about my writing, in which I really do, but I don't._

 _I wanted to try and give Ruben a perspective that he feels pity towards Leslie, it's more of an emotional defence to what he truly feels. So don't mind his_ _insensitivity, although he's nothing but insensitive during the game and other such fanfictions. I don't like abuse, so I won't include it._

 _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._


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